Final Fantasy VI: The Last Name
by Laziness Incarnate
Summary: Setzer realizes he doesn't know the last name of anyone on his ship, and goes on a quest to fill in the passenger logbook. This ends up being a weirder endeavour than he thought.


**Final Fantasy VI: The Last Name**

Setzer did not know when he opened his mouth what a bad idea that was.

"Celes, be a dear and hand me the-"

"Be a WHAT? Are you making fun of my last name?"

"-monkey wrench? Er, no? Possibly, but without knowing it?"

Celes waved her sword, which had leapt reflexively out of its sheath sometime during their conversation. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you don't know my last name? The last name of the fourth-highest ranking person in the entire Empire? The Empire that paid you for this airship?"

"Technically, they paid Daryl for this ship, my dea-my deer-loving friend."

"My last name is Chere."

"Which is a very nice last name, and a nice kind of vegetarian animal."

"Do you honestly not know? In a certain language, 'Chere' means 'dear.'"

"As in the animal?"

"As in Edgar's favourite address toward women, which he no longer uses in my presence."

She did not gesture at her sword, but Setzer thought he was beginning to understand.

"Ah. I am beginning to understand."

"At the Imperial Academy, I was told to stop disciplining soldiers for making jokes about my name."

"Because the Emperor wanted soldiers with all their limbs, I suppose."

"They had to be punished. It got completely out of hand."

"The jokes, or your disciplining?"

Celes' Glare attack was strong enough to give someone Blind status.

"Okay, okay, I get it, no more 'dear' around you."

Celes put her sword away. She brushed her hair over her shoulder; her cheeks were slightly flushed. "I can't believe you didn't know my last name. I can't believe you asked to marry me back then without knowing my last name. Do you have no sense at all?"

"Come to think of it," Setzer smoothly and suavely changed the subject, "I don't know the last names of _anyone_ on this ship."

"Neither do I, come to think of it."

"May I should go find out everyone's full and proper names, for the passenger logbook."

"That _is_ what an actual ship's captain would do."

"Yes, it is imperative that I properly fill out the passenger log before we go for our suicide run on Kefka's Tower, in case I need to inform everyone's next of kin. I need to know what names to write on the sympathy cards."

"Yes." Celes's icy gaze melted a little. "I would hate to die not knowing Locke's last name."

Setzer was annoyed at this.

"All right, ship's passenger. Let's start with you. How do you spell your last name?"

"C - H - E - R - E."

"Don't you mean D - E - A - R?"

And Setzer ran away before he died.

\- 0 - 0 -

Unfortunately, the next person Setzer ran into was Locke.

"Oh yeah, of course I know Celes' last name. Who doesn't?"

Setzer put on a razor-sharp smile and fingered the razor-sharp playing cards in his pocket too. "Do you also happen to know what her last name means?"

"'Dear,' isn't it? Its roots are from some old language or another. I'm a treasure hunter and trail-worn traveler, so I know that kind of thing."

"Really. What language is 'Chere' from then?"

"Oh, something from the Southern Continent, since that's where she's from."

Setzer decided to give up on that question for now. He took out one card-the queen of spades-and held it up. "'Dear' doesn't really suit her, methinks."

"No, that's just because you don't know her that well. She's a big softy under the icy exterior."

"Is that so."

"She is. I've seen it. She's really opened up to me lately."

"Indeed." Setzer frowned. Time to smoothly and suavely change the subject again. "Come to think of it, I don't know your last name either."

"Cole."

"Ah. Were your parents perchance miners from the colliery city of Narshe?"

"No, I never knew my parents. I grew up an orphan."

"Ah." Setzer suddenly felt like a terrible person. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"My grandma took really good care of me though."

"That's good to hear." Setzer suddenly felt like an okay person again.

"She died when I was fourteen." Locke hung his head low.

"…Why don't you sign the passenger's log? I need your full legal name here so I can inform your next of kin in case we all die at Kefka's Tower...although I guess you don't have any next of kin..."

"Oh no, I have tons of aunts and uncles and cousins."

Locke took the pen from Setzer, but did not start writing. His hand hovered over the page. "You want me to write my full legal name?"

"Do you not know how to write?"

"Of course I do!" Locke's face was beet red. "I just...look, I don't tell most people my real name, okay?"

"Oh?" Setzer felt a grin of evil glee creeping onto his face, but he suppressed it. "Don't worry. Surely no one will mock you mercilessly if you have a funny name. We're all friends here."

"You think so?"

"Of course! We're all going to go murder God together. What's an embarrassing name compared to that?"

"When you put it that way..."

Locke signed his name with a flashy twirl of the pen.

"'John Locke Cole'? That's it? That's not so bad." Setzer was disappointed.

"No, I hate it. 'John' is so _common_. I stopped using it when I met...a certain girl."

"Ah, of course, a girl." Setzer had heard the gossip about the dead girl Locke used to keep in a basement. "Go on," he said, morbidly curious.

"I wanted to impress her, and 'John' just didn't cut it, so when we were introducing ourselves I just…skipped it and went straight to my middle name."

"How heinous. Is that all it was?"

Locke's eyes had gone misty, but he bucked up again with a determined, if shaky, smile. "Well, I'd wanted to change my name anyway. I _really_ hated it when my grandma would call me 'John Locke.' Ugh! Doesn't that make me sound like a boring old philosopher or something? Someone who'd wear a white curly wig and go on and on about the nature of human nature blah blah blah?"

"Not really, no."

"I guess my life of lies was for nothing."

"It's not really lying to use your middle name as your first name."

"Yeah, I guess not," said Locke brightly. "I guess I never lied to Rachel or any of you either. I'm glad I'll never have to have that conversation with Celes." He crossed out "John" in the passenger log. "There. Now I'm just Locke Cole again."

"It's still a dumb name," Setzer said under his breath.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing. Your captain thanks you for your contribution to the passenger log."

"Yeah, sure, no problem!"

\- 0 - 0 -

Setzer headed to the engine room next because the engine room was where he went when he wanted to mash in Locke's skull with a monkey wrench but he didn't have a monkey wrench because Celes hadn't passed him the one he'd asked for. So he went to the engine room to get a monkey wrench.

Cyan and Gau were in the engine room.

"Ah! If it isn't Sir Setzer. We were just...admiring this remarkable...mechanical beast. Without touching it, of course."

"Uwaooooo~! Me Gau! Me like shiny!"

Fortunately for them, they hadn't broken anything.

"I'd like you to sign this passenger logbook, and after that a liability agreement."

"Waooooo..."

"I suppose you won't be able to sign your own name, Gau. Cyan, can you sign for him? Since you seem to be acting as his guardian and all."

Cyan gave a startled look. "I suppose I am like a...father-figure to him, since his own is...not well." He took up the pen. "My own name first."

Setzer peered down at what he wrote.

"'Garamonde'? Um, were your parents not from Doma, maybe?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I just thought that the people of Doma had more, um, _special_ names? With more vowels, maybe."

"My last name has many vowels."

"Yeah, that's true, but somehow it looks kind of...not what I expected. I always thought Doman names generally...um, ended on vowels maybe? Aren't there some famous Domans with names like...Tokugawa...or Sanada, or was it Canada…Echizen...oh wait, that one ends on a consonant..."

"'Garamonde' ends with a vowel."

"I know!" Setzer shook his head in frustration. "But somehow it doesn't feel right. Look, what are the most common last names in Doma?"

"I believe the most common now is Sato, followed by Suzuki."

"See! Those names end in vowels."

"But, of course, when I think on it, the most common Doman family name is now...Garamonde."

Setzer opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Although I suppose...there might be that other man who survived the poisoning...I wonder what his last name was? I rushed forth from the castle clouded by such rage and despair that I never did find out his name, or whether he survived..."

"Uwao, ooh!" Gau jumped on Cyan's back, saving Setzer from having to jump to his shameful, mortified death down the engine shaft. "Mr. Thou, name is Mr. Thou! No forget!"

"Ow!" Cyan tried to pull his ponytail from Gau's grasp, to no avail. "Sir Gau, I am not a horse!"

"I'm Gau! I'm your friend!"

"I know that!" But Cyan was laughing now, and Setzer breathed a little sigh of relief. "I think it is thou who art forgetting, Sir Gau! 'Mr. Thou' is Sir Sabin, not I."

"Everyone is Mr. Thou!"

"Should I sign your name as 'Gau Thou' then?"

"No! That is stupid name!"

Setzer couldn't help laughing along with them as Cyan, with a hundred fifty pounds of wildchild still hanging off his back, managed to ink three garbled letters below his own name.

Maybe the logbook was a good idea after all.

\- 0 - 0 -

Setzer was delighted when he ran into the Figaro brothers next. "Hi, Mr. Thou."

"Don't call me that!" Sabin's defensive reflexes were as fast as his offensive suplexes. "Have you been talking to Gau and Cyan? I told them never to tell anyone about that!"

"Mr. Sabin Thou. You should sign the passenger logbook with that name." Setzer grinned at Edgar, who raised an eyebrow.

"I never knew you acquired a new name, Sabin. Was this after you left the kingdom?"

Sabin grumbled something about never actually technically leaving the kingdom if you considered South Figaro and environs part of it.

"Anyway," Edgar said crisply, "why are you keeping a passenger logbook?"

"I want to know how to spell your name so I can write it on your gravestone if Kefka murders you."

"That makes sense."

Edgar's chicken-scratch scrawl was barely legible, but Setzer could see that what he was writing was weird.

"'Roni'? That sounds like a pasta."

"Excuse me?"

"And seriously, 'Figaro'? That's your last name?"

"You know where I'm from, right?"

"Yes, obviously, but it's rather...lame, isn't it, as a last name."

"Are you insulting my entire royal lineage?"

"No, just the name."

"Personally, I always thought it was a bit lame," said Sabin as he wrote his own name in a flowing, elegant script. "It's the kind of name you want to sing bombastically, you know? In an opera. Figaro Figaro Figaroooooooo!"

"We never should have let you watch that opera, little brother."

"Are you saying I have no culture?"

"I'm saying you should never sing, ever."

Setzer decided to take charge of the conversation before the bantering got out of control, or before Sabin started singing again. He pointed at Sabin's middle name. "How do you pronounce this? 'Reen'?"

"No, it's 'ReNAY.'"

"Sounds a bit girly, doesn't it?"

"If Sabin wants to have a girly name and have flowers and pretty teacups in his martial arts cabin and work out a lot and be called a bear, I have no problem with that," Edgar interjected. "You are always welcome back at the castle, brother, no matter what your lifestyle choices. I want you to know that."

"What?"

Setzer decided to take charge of the conversation again. "Hey, I want to ask you something. You know Celes' last name is 'Chere,' right? Have you heard that it means 'dear' in another language?"

Sabin scratched his head, presumably because it was itchy. "Nope, never heard that."

Edgar itched at his chin, presumably because it was scratchy. "I had no idea."

"How could you not know?" Setzer stared at Edgar. "She said you're not allowed to use the word 'dear' in front of her anymore."

"Oh, right. That."

"So that's why she nearly cut your crown jewels off that one time, bro."

"Thank you for the reminder, Sabin."

"Do you two know what language 'Chere' is from? Locke didn't know, though he pretended to."

"Why don't you ask Celes?"

"I don't want my crown jewels cut off either."

Sabin scratched his head a bit harder. Maybe he had ticks. "What other languages are there? We all speak the same language, don't we? Ed?"

"I have no idea."

Setzer sighed. So much for the royal education of Figaro. "Thanks for signing, you two. I'll see you around."

\- 0 - 0 -

Gogo, Umaro and Mog (the three of whom Setzer privately thought of as "Those Somewhat Useful Weirdos," or on his grumpier days "The Reject Squad") were hanging out together in Umaro's cabin.

Actually, they were hanging out in Umaro's bed.

Setzer hadn't actually wanted to give Umaro a bed, because who wanted to wash fur from the sheets? But he also hadn't wanted to argue with a yeti, so.

He was going to make this one quick.

"Do you guys have last names?" said Setzer, barely peeking his head through the door.

"Do you guys have last names?" said Gogo.

"I'll take that as a no."

"I'll take that as a no."

"Do I look like I have a last name?" said Mog, with attitude. "Huh? Punk."

"How am I supposed to know? retorted Setzer, with irritation. "I mean, for all I know your last name is 'Kupo.'"

"I'm a human-loving, fast-talking, street-smart, SLAM-dancing...Moogle. I don't need a last name. Kupo."

"Okaaaaay. Umaro?"

"Ooh. Me Umaro."

"Okaaaaay. Whatever. I don't think you guys even need gravestones anyway."

"I don't think you guys even need gravestones anyway," said Gogo.

Setzer rolled his eyes, wrote down the three names himself (he guessed the spelling), and got himself out of there.

\- 0 - 0 -

In the lounge area of the _Falcon_ , something weird was going on.

Shadow and Interceptor were _posing_.

For Relm, who was painting.

Meanwhile, Strago was visibly seething in the corner.

"Hiiiiii," said Setzer, not sure whether he should interrupt the strange tableau. "Can I trouble you three to sign the passenger logbook? In case of death or dismemberment I need to know your full legal names in order to inform your next of kin. Although I guess for two of you your next of kin is always with you, so it's kind of moot, but anyway."

Shadow gave Setzer an odd, intense look.

"Woof," said Interceptor, turning toward Setzer with barred teeth.

Relm threw down her loaded paintbrush on the floor with an "Argh!" (Setzer yelled "Argh" too and moved to clean up the paint.) "You just had to come in when we finally got Interceptor to stay put in the right spot."

"It's fine," said Strago, who was seething less now. "I don't think this painting is going to work out, Relm."

"Don't be such a party-pooper, Gramps."

"Speaking of 'Gramps,'" Setzer smoothly and suavely changed the subject, as he was wont to do, "do you two have the same last name?"

"Huh?" Relm seemed to finally notice the logbook in Setzer's hands. "No, of course not. He's my maternal grandfather. I have my dad's last name."

"Oh yeah? I didn't meet him in Thamasa." Setzer pushed the pen and logbook at her.

"I haven't met him either. Well, not that I remember. He left a long time ago." Relm shrugged and signed the book. "The only thing I have left of him is my mom's wedding ring."

"You also have his last name. 'Arrowny,' huh? That's a nice name."

"Yeah, I guess." She cocked her head to the side. "Hey, Shadow, what's your last name?"

Interceptor cocked his head to the side too.

Shadow stirred. "…I'm just 'Shadow.'"

"Sure." Relm held out the pen to him. "Your turn."

Shadow made no move to take it.

"Come on, I'm not diseased or anything."

"You can just sign it as 'Shadow,'" said Setzer, sensing a losing battle, "if you don't have any relatives who need to know you're dead."

Shadow took the pen and signed the logbook, his writing as jagged as a shuriken. Was his hand _shaking_? That was different.

"You should take off your glove when you're writing," said Relm. "Your handwriting might improve. Oh, you have a ring under the glove too, don't you? That's definitely hard to write with."

"Leave the man alone," Strago said.

"Okay, great, almost done," said Setzer, getting some veeeery strange vibes from every living being in the room, even Interceptor. "Strago, you can sign right under Shadow...yeah, nice, 'Magus,' that's original."

"It's a very common name in Thamasa."

"I bet it is." Setzer practically snatched the pen and logbook from the old man. "Thanks all, bye, good luck with the painting."

Relm scowled. "Shadow, Interceptor, _pose_!"

\- 0 - 0 -

Last of all was Terra.

Terra was on the deck.

Or rather, she was on the deck for a single, pinkly blazing moment as Setzer poked his head through the entrance shaft, but then suddenly she was furry and flying and far far away in the dusk-purple sky, limning the distant clouds with the light of her fiery passage.

Setzer waited.

Terra blasted off an Ultima at a speck in the distance that was probably Doomgaze.

Setzer covered his ears.

The deafening after-roar of the most powerful spell in the world washed over him.

Terra came back to the ship, still pink and furry and godawful powerful.

"Hi Terra. What's your last name?"

"Branford. Excuse me."

She blasted off one last Pearl spell in Doomgaze's direction.

Doomgaze flew farther away.

"Thanks for not using Ultima on the ship."

"No problem. Pearl is okay though, right?"

"Yes, that's a much safer spell. Probably more efficient against that guy too."

"True."

"So, 'Branford.' That's a pretty ordinary name. Is it from your mother or your father?"

"My father, of course. Most people get their last name from their fathers, right?"

"Right, right. Your father was an Esper, right?"

"Right. He still is, actually, even though he's a rock too."

"Right. Sorry."

"Not at all."

"Can you sign your full legal name here?"

"Sure, why?"

"So we can inform your next of kin if you die at Kefka's Tower. Not that I think," Setzer vividly remembered her latest Ultima spell, "that you're going to die."

"Actually, Strago says I might die once we destroy the Statues..." Terra's hair hung in her face as she wrote her name in the book.

Today was _really_ Setzer's day to offend everyone on this ship, even the ones who could fly off it. "I don't think you'll die, Terra. You're too strong for that. And anyway," he hurried on, "you always have your father with you, so I don't need to inform your next of kin if you kick the bucket."

That drew a small laugh from her. "I guess you're right about that."

"Right. I'm always right."

"Riiiight. Make sure to write your own name too, Setzer."

"Me, write?"

"You _can_ write, right?"

"Of course I can! But there's no way I'm going to die. I have too much luck for that."

"Weren't you the one who said, 'My life is a chip in your pile! Ante up!'"

He grinned at her. "You heard about that? If I get murdered by Kefka, you can write it on my gravestone."

She waved the logbook in his face. "Everyone in this book is going to live. Even if I have to use up every last bit of magic in my body, even I can't even fly anymore-"

"Then I'll catch you," said Setzer, and added, "with this ship, I mean. I'm not Sabin."

She laughed again, louder this time. "My life is a chip in your pile too."

"We're all chips in a big pile together."

"Yes." She handed the book back to him. "Keep it well."

"You keep yourself well. You're in the book too."

"I will."

\- 0 - 0 -

Back in the captain's quarters, Setzer signed his own name with a flourish.

(He signed on the first page, of course, on the line reserved for the captain, because running this ship had to have at least one perk.)

There. The log was complete. Here were the names of him and all of his friends, all sixteen ragtaggers on this hunk of junk Daryl had left for him. The logbook had started as a joke, but he was kind of glad he'd done it. Did he know these people (and non-people) better now for having all their full and legal names at his fingertips? Maybe a little.

If they all died at Kefka's Tower, maybe someone would find this, maybe the captain and passengers of the _Falcon_ would be remembered because of it. Sure, they would probably be remembered as "those idiots who tried and failed to kill a god," but at least their names would be here, part of history of a world that could end up having a very short history indeed if they didn't win. But they would win. And then the logbook wouldn't be necessary. He hoped.

Tomorrow, he would share the contents of the book with his friends, and they would all have a good laugh together at Celes Dear (hopefully she wouldn't kill him before Kefka did), at Gau Thou, at the Figaro Figaro Figaro twins.

Then they could go save the world together, and if they died, well, Setzer was betting they wouldn't.

He put down the book, and the pen, and anted up.

\- THE END -

 _Epilogue_

"All right, which of you jokers wrote 'AND YOU' at the end here?"

\- THE ACTUAL END -


End file.
